Water Lotus Blue
by saffroncremebrulee
Summary: The thing about being a spirit guide is that you're not supposed to fall in love with your charge. Too bad you're an amnesiac someone or the other stuck in...wait, where are you again? Revolutionshipping.
1. Lost

**Disclaimer** : I do not own YGO. This is a work of fanfiction for entertainment, not profit.

Soundtrack: Chvrches/"Clearest Blue"

...

He awoke in a city that was not his.

For one thing, the smells were different, the sweet, sticky cinnamon of street corner vendors and the sour, festering ammonia of the subway. Air felt thicker here, blanketed with smog, exhaust, and crowds. Seemingly endless ones occupied the streets from dawn until dusk. Were they going somewhere? Staying still? Both? It was hard to tell; all of them appeared to mill about even in what should have been the middle of the night, too, when there appeared to be nowhere to go and nothing to see.

Except this city never looked like it was 3 a.m. Rows and rows of streetlights and billboards twinkled as people moved from restaurant to bar, apartment to work. Always on the go and, as best as he can tell, never, ever in repose.

How distinctly _odd_.

He had often awoken with this extraterrestrial sense of fatigue, as if he had been wrapped in a seemingly endless layer of linen and then unwrapped by careful, reverent hands. But those memories must have been the fragments of something, perhaps another life, because he remembered absolutely nothing about it except the occasional hint of a scent or color.

If he could move his limbs, he would say there was something that he couldn't quite put his finger on about how time awakening was different from all the others. An instinct, maybe? Or another recollection he could only partially call his own?

He knew he was searching, though. That was something he remembered. Each awakening pulsed with an urgency that there was something- _someone_ \- who needed him. _Who_ was the only important question for now. _Why_ would come later, after he had a chance to observe The Who. As for the _Where_ and _When_ , well, he was here in this strange city at this time, so he dismissed those questions as frivolous.

The _How_ always puzzled him, though. It must have been par for course given whatever profession he currently occupied. There was a calling to his work, just as there had been a calling to whatever that dictated his passions previously. That blank space inside his mind needed answers, and he had a feeling whoever he was searching for had them.

All he had to do was keep looking for her- and he knew it was a _her_ , damn it, because the only hint he had was blue.

Blue like the skies twinkling above, blue like the water sparkling in the harbor, blue like the shine of waxy lotus petals that resembled a pair of eyes.

Familiar eyes.

All the answers lie in this strange city he now called home.

...

Yes, I'm back, with this odd and cliched idea for a fic.

Bonus points if you can guess where Atem is.


	2. Found

**Disclaimer** : I do not own YGO.

Soundtrack: The Plain White T's/"Hey There Delilah"

 _For the city of dreams, not including the rats of nightmares_

 _..._

 _Anzu_.

That was her name. And what an easy name it was to find, too, given the millions of people residing here. He had expected to wander about for months, maybe even years, before finding the soul who called his here. That was not to be. The person who answered all of his questions was quite literally plastered across the city. All the spirit had to do was follow the crowded throngs of people to the busiest of squares. Here, several streets converged amongst shops and restaurants of every imaginable variety. City natives trampled through gawking visitors. Oddly costumed people hustled underneath the lights- various cartoon characters, celebrity impersonators, and, the oddest of all, people in green draped togas holding a torch in one hand a book in the other.

All of this activity buzzed underneath what must have been the most well-lit sign in the city- a smiling, blue-eyed girl pirouetting amongst a cloud of pink chiffon, framed by similarly dressed dancers in various poses. COMING SOON TO THE CITY BALLET, the sign underneath read,

Anzu Mazaki

Principal Ballerina

Upon reading that, the spirit did a double-take. Or would have, had he possessed a physical body with which to do so. Those eyes were the same ones that he saw when he closed _his_. No other charge had appeared this familiar before; if anything, the vague pieces of memories that returned to him always seemed to involve a long and arduous trek through a strange land and time before finding vague clues as to where he was supposed to go and who he was supposed to help.

This charge, however, this charge was advertised across every other available surface in the metropolis. Evidently, Anzu was young, pretty, and famous, a trifecta that puzzled the spirit because nothing about the combination hinted at any lingering unhappiness. The people he usually worked were sad or broken in some way, and if the pictures were any indication she was neither. With any luck, he could help her by finding happiness as soon as possible, so he, too, could return to a happy and content state of being.

But first, to research this Anzu...

...

Yeah, this is going to be a weird and experimental piece. Hmmm.


End file.
